A/N: This chapter contains a section of dialogue between Smith, Ismay and Andrews from the musical Titanic called The Blame (which also inspired these two chapter titles), and is very much paraphrased to fit this story.

Chapter 10: Blame, Pt. 2

His room was quiet now, save for the ticking of his pocket watch, which lay open on his desk. Every minute seemed to go by slower than normal. He felt useless sitting there. All he wanted was to tell Rose that Cal was locked up and would never bother her again. Couldn't he at least be allowed that small opportunity? No. He had to keep reminding himself that it didn't matter. It was his fault that Rose fled. His fault that he tried to turn their friendship into something more. His fault that he couldn't help but love her.

Andrews picked up the last of his blueprints that lay crumpled on the ground and decided to pour himself a glass of wine. The bitter liquid slid down his throat and he felt a wave a calm wash over him as he slouched in his chair. He closed his eyes and thought of Rose and the happier moments they had shared in such a short time.

In his minute of peace he could hear a faint tinkling. Andrews opened his eyes and looked up. The light fixture on the ceiling was shaking. He could feel a faint vibration coming from the floor. Perhaps it was not a stalled engine?

Immediately he stood up and hurried to the bridge.

The cold air seared his lungs. Indeed, the engines had stopped, and there was a commotion coming from the bow of the ship. He gasped at the sight of large white blocks scattered on the deck and the worst of his fears came true. Titanic had struck a massive iceberg.

…..

300-feet wide. Andrews felt sick as he hurried to the Captain's quarters. The watertight doors were closed at least, but those five compartments could only bear so much before they would start to overflow.

Smith and a number of officers were gathered in his quarters. Andrews unfurled an armful of blueprints on the table.

"What's the matter?" Ismay asked.

"We've struck ice," Captain Smith said.

"Is there serious damage?"

Smith said nothing, but looked to Andrews, who was growing increasingly pale. He nodded solemnly.

"This is most unfortunate, Captain," Ismay said. "When do you think we can get underway?"

Smith ignored him, his attention still on Andrews.

"We'll have to alert everyone on board," Andrews spoke fast, perspiration gathering on his forehead. "If you see a steward, make sure they knock on all doors. We have to get people out of their rooms as quickly as possible."

"And supposing she doesn't go down?" Ismay chimed in. "We'll have created this mass panic for nothing."

A bitter chuckle escaped Andrews. "Be realistic, Bruce. I have built her from the keel up and I know for certain she will not stay afloat." The admission made the knot in his stomach twist.

"Well then, Andrews," Ismay said calmly, "surely you could've prevented this given your vast knowledge in building oceanliners. What do you propose we do?"

Andrews focused on his blueprints and said nothing.

"Once again I am reassured," Ismay said contemptuously as he paced around the room.

"Bruce, please-"

Ismay turned sharply. "Andrews, this is your work!" he exploded with an icy stare. "You have doomed us all! Where are the leak-proof bulkheads? That should have been your job as a designer."

"Dammit, Ismay!" Andrews shouted, slamming his blueprints to the desk. "You don't understand. The hull has been staved and water is surging in fast. Can't you at least comprehend that?"

"Whoever heard of steel that rips?" Ismay shot back.

"The plates buckled and the rivets popped," Andrews explained. He hesitated and glared at Ismay. "God knows they were not made of the best material."

"If only you designed it right," said Ismay.

Andrews looked forlornly at his blueprints, wishing he could turn back time, wishing he had planned for the worst. Now disaster was inevitable. "It's too late for that, Bruce. I'm only a builder. It is God who sinks ships."

"So now it is God's work, then? Well, what about the Captain who sailed us straight into disaster! Let us not forget about him."

Smith looked taken aback.

"Oh, now it's the Captain's fault!" Andrews said throwing benevolence to the wind, all of his pent up fury escaping.

"Who called for speed and wanted to break every record?" Captain Smith said to Ismay.

"How dare you, Smith! I won't stand here while you indict me when you clearly ignored the numerous iceberg warnings that you received."

"And who undermined the position of Captain?" Smith shouted.

"Who refused to extend up the bulkheads?!" Ismay retorted.

"That would be you, Bruce," Andrews said, thrusting the blueprints toward Ismay. "They stop a deck too low because you insisted on giving the first class bigger staterooms! She's only sinking because the bulkheads stop a deck too low!"

"Smith, you should have posted more lookouts in darkness!"

"And who had to have both the largest and fastest?" Andrews shot back. "I built you your vision, Ismay."

Their faces were red as they stood in forlorn silence.

"Gentlemen, we must stop this," Andrews said, wiping his brow. "We're losing precious time."

"Your work, no one else's," said Ismay.

Andrews appeared defeated. "My doing…no one else's."

"No. No, Tom. There's only one captain and I was in charge," he said with a pause and looked at both men. "This is my ship. No one else's."

"Please alert whoever you see," said Andrews. "There is no time to waste."

…..

Steam rushed from the smokestacks as Andrews hurried onto the boat deck. The din was horrendous. Crew members were fumbling with the lifeboats, unfurling their covers, and trying desperately to work the davit mechanisms.

"Turn to the right!" he shouted to the seamen. "Pull the falls taut before you unchock! Have you never had a boat drill?"

"No, sir! Not with these new davits, sir," one of the men said.

Andrews glanced around, disgusted with the crew members. He noticed a small crowd of passengers emerging onto the deck, huddling close in the bitter cold as a knot of dread twisted again in his stomach. There was no time to stand around chastising the crewmen. Seconds were ticking away. He had to find Rose.